


The Smell of Home

by ScrollingKingfisher



Series: Gabriel Monthly Challenges [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Castiel (Supernatural), Everyone being domestic in the bunker, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Omega Sam, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16355912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrollingKingfisher/pseuds/ScrollingKingfisher
Summary: There's a smell in the Bunker. A new smell.





	The Smell of Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, about five years ago, when I first started writing fic, I scrolled through my AO3 page, looked at the fics available, and chuckled to myself with naive self-assurance; "I'll start publishing my stuff, but I'll never be writing any A/B/O, that's for certain!"  
> Today I prepare to eat those words, because fanfic is apparently a slippery slope. This was meant to be in last month's Gabriel Monthly Challenge, but guess which idiot forgot how many days are in September? So here it is now! Enjoy!

 

Something was wrong. There was a smell in the bunker. A new smell.

 

Sam frowned, looking around the bathroom, and took another subtle whiff. Yep, it was still there. He wasn’t imagining it. Something was there- a smell that had never been smelled before.

 

It wasn’t Dean’s vibrant leather-seats-and-cinnamon alpha scent, which was odd because the _entire bunker_ currently stank of Dean. Ever since the new arrivals had come from the other world and had set up temporary shop on their territory, Dean had been scenting the bunker like he was paid to do it. Sam had had just about enough of the relentless marking, but even he had had to muffle his smile when he heard Dean objecting loudly to an unimpressed Cas that he “wasn’t marking my territory!” while actively rubbing the insides of his wrists against every item of furniture within arms’ reach.

 

He was noseblind to his own omega scent, like everyone was, so it wasn’t him. And it definitely wasn’t Cas’ subtle sea-wind-and-honey smell. They had both been so relieved to discover that he was a beta the first time he lost his grace during the apocalypse; having two alphas in close proximity for extended lengths of time was often a volatile thing, as Sam had experienced during his teenage years, and it wasn’t something he was keen to repeat.

 

Who could it be then? Sam took another sniff, trying to find the source, mentally ticking off the other possible candidates. Mom, no. Rowena, no. Charlie, no. Jack, maybe? Sam sniffed again, searching for his subtle unpresented smell among the chemical cocktail of shampoo and body spray. No, not him either.

 

But there it was, the source of the smell! Sam picked up a towel from the drying rail, bunching it in his fist to scent it deeply. He closed his eyes, savouring it. The scent was unusual, unique- he would have instantly recognised it if he’d ever smelled it before. Woodsmoke, and juniper, and something bitingly sweet. Aniseed? And then something more floral on the edge of it, wrapping the whole thing up into a rich, vibrant whole. Those were definitely alpha undertones, but not anybody he knew. He couldn’t resist burying his face in the soft fabric and taking another deep sniff.

 

There was a sudden flurry of bangs on the bathroom door, and Sam jumped, dropping the towel as though it had burnt him.

 

“Sam! Are you in there? Quit working on your perm, lunch is ready!” Dean’s voice came through the door, loud and obnoxious.

 

“Coming, jerk!” Sam yelled back, quickly stuffing the towel back onto the rack, the mystery smell momentarily driven from his head.

 

.o0o.

 

But he couldn’t forget about the scent for long, because he came across it again. And again. And again.

 

The smell was in the war room. It was in the kitchen. There was smoky scent rubbed surreptitiously over the spines of the books in the library, smeared liberally over the trunks of the trees around the bunker entrance, but the final straw was when he came across a hint of it daubed on the door frame of the room that Gabriel had claimed.

 

Sam frowned at that. Up until now, their mystery marker had struck to neutral communal areas, which was just about acceptable, but marking other people’s personal spaces was crossing a line. It definitely wasn’t that Sam had a soft spot for Gabriel after being the one to carry him through the rift and nurse him back to health, Sam told himself, it was just common decency. Angels with their grace might not have had scents of their own, but they were certainly sensitive to other people’s.

 

Grabbing a damp cloth and a canister of Pher-Away, he quickly made sure to wipe the scent off. There was no need to upset the still skittish archangel while they found their mystery alpha. Gabriel was rattled enough from the fight with Michael that had almost killed him _again_ , and Sam knew he was still healing from all that time being held by Asmodeus, however he might bluster about being a “new man”. He didn’t need this stress as well.

 

...

 

He was looking through the log they kept, trying to work out who it could be, when Dean walked into the library. He wrinkled his nose. “Who lit a bonfire in here?”

 

Sam looked up in surprise. Dean’s nose wasn’t as good as his after being punched in the face one too many times. It wasn’t normal that he could smell anything strongly enough to be bothered by it. “You can smell it too?”

 

Dean sniffed again, then actually sneezed, rubbing his nose on a sleeve. “Jesus, Sam, I’d have to be nose-dead not to smell that. And whoever they are, boy do they have their panties in a twist. Smells like that time we had to take on that entire bar in Indiana, remember?”

 

Sam did remember. Sam also remembered the lead alpha’s less than modern opinions on the position of omegas in society. Before Sam had put his fist through his front teeth, of course. Then it had just been choked noises and screaming and the sounds of Dean and him having to fight off all his equally inebriated and foul-mouthed friends, but now that Dean mentioned it, Sam did remember the smell of smoke from that night. Like every leer and comment and sideways glance had been a spark, smouldering away in dry tinder, just waiting for the right breeze to stoke it into an inferno of violence. Funnily enough smelling smoke here hadn’t triggered any of those memories to rise to the surface. Maybe it was because he knew he was safe here, in the bunker? Or maybe the rest of the mystery alpha’s scent was enough to separate the association with aggression?

 

Dean had his nose in the air, taking deep breaths, but he obviously wasn’t getting anywhere. Sam bit back a chuckle as he spun slowly on the spot. “Where’s it coming from?”

 

Sam turned back to the log, flipping it shut. “That’s what I’m trying to work out. Nobody new’s visited as far as I know. You seen anyone new around lately?”

 

Dean scratched his chin, expression turning pensive as he thought about it. “Not as far as I know, either. Have you asked Cas?”

 

“I’m about to.” Sam stood. It wouldn’t do to have a strange alpha scent marking in their home. Then he paused, realising something. “Wait. This is why you’re marking everywhere, isn’t it? It’s not the apocalypse refugees that have your alpha’s back up, it’s this smell!”

 

Dean paused guiltily, freezing with one wrist poised over the top of the lamp, then lowered his arm stiffly to his side. “Don’t know that you’re talking about.”

 

“Sure, Dean.”

 

Dean harrumphed, face turning red. “Shut your face. Go ask Cas if he knows who this is, would you?”

 

Sam rolled his eyes, deciding it wasn’t worth it. He left Dean distractedly rubbing his wrists over the banisters and walked down the corridor towards the kitchen. As he passed the corridor leading off to the bedrooms, he caught sight of a flurry of movement. He turned just in time to see a door swing shut with a deliberately muffled _click_. He hesitated, then walked slowly up to it, his fist hovering over the wood before tapping lightly. “Gabriel?”

 

He waited. No answer.

 

Sam sighed, moving on down the corridor reluctantly. He had thought that he might be making some kind of progress with Gabriel before the apocalypse world. He’d seemed to be recovering remarkably well from his captivity, even if Sam had known that his usual breezy attitude was thin and superficial, but whatever; anything was an improvement on being near catatonic. Sam had felt that connection that had always seemed to be there between them start to come back to tentative life.

 

Which made Gabriel’s new regression into himself, starting a few days after they had returned from the alternate universe, even more upsetting. He’d stuck around just long enough for Sam to see that horrifying chest wound heal into an angry scar, and long enough for his shy elusive smiles to kindle some hope in Sam’s long-cold heart, but then he had seemed to melt away, retreating into his room and stubbornly refusing visitors. Sam didn’t quite know what to do about it- he’d tried talk to him about whatever was bothering him, but the archangel was too fast. He’d tried to corner him in the kitchen, but Gabriel’s look of wall-eyed panic when he realised he was trapped had been enough to make Sam back off immediately and let him escape. He wasn’t stupid enough to try breaking into Gabriel’s room, not unless he was desperate. Gabriel’s consent had been violated enough by that demon. He didn’t need this hint of safety that he’d carved out in the bunker to be taken away as well.

 

As a last desperate bid, Sam had taken to leaving chocolates outside Gabriel’s door. Maybe it was only a tiny gesture, but they disappeared every time, so he hoped that the message was received.

 

Poking his nose into the kitchen, he saw a disgruntled looking Cas eyeing the coffee machine like he was considering smiting it if it didn’t give him his caffeine in the next five seconds. Sam grinned. Cas was looking particularly rumpled, Dean’s grey dressing gown in place of the usual trenchcoat ensemble, and he glared when he looked up before he caught sight of Sam and his eyes softened.

 

“Sam. Good morning.”

 

“Think it’s afternoon now, Cas,” Sam teased, going to the cupboards to grab his own mug and grimacing when he caught another whiff of smoke. The stuff was everywhere! “Has Dean had coffee yet?”

 

“I wouldn’t know, I’m avoiding him,” Cas muttered sourly, pouring himself a mug and sipping without bothering with creamer or sugar.

 

Sam blinked, granules dropping off his spoon as he turned to look at his brother-in-law. “What? He hasn’t been too irritating lately, has he?”

 

Cas shot him a narrow-eyed look. “That’s easy for you to say. Dean didn’t spend all morning rubbing his scent into _your_ hair.”

 

Sure enough, Cas’ hair was in a particular state of disarray, a cloud of Dean’s scent surrounding him. Sam couldn’t help the snort that slipped out. Cas’ eyes got even narrower. Sam backpedalled, heading for the door out of self preservation. “Try to take it easy on him, Cas, he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it half the time. I’ll try and talk to him about it!”

 

“Do it before he starts peeing on the furniture!” Cas shouted moodily after him.

 

...

 

Despite Sam’s best efforts, and to everyone’s increasing irritation, they didn’t find who the smell was. The marking continued until, one morning, about a week after Sam had first scented it, it all came to a head.

 

Sam walked past Gabriel’s door, ground to a halt, and backtracked until he was standing in front of it. His eyes narrowed, zooming in on a spot.

 

There was another mark. Another one. Right in the middle of Gabriel’s fucking door.

 

For the first time since all of this started, Sam’s confusion crossed the line into proper anger. He snarled all the way to the kitchen and back as he collected a washcloth, scrubbing the mark viciously away. The marks always seemed particularly dense down Gabriel’s end of the corridor. Who was their mystery alpha, and why did they feel the need to mess with Gabriel in particular? This was his territory, Sam’s nest, damn it! Sam would not let this mystery alpha harass his pack! (Gabriel was pack? When had he decided that? Sam quickly decided to bury that thought.)

 

His eyes moved down the door, zeroing in on something sitting on the doorstep. His chocolate. It was still there, untouched. Sam was abruptly worried. Where _was_ Gabriel? He had barely seen him the last few days. He’d assumed at first it was just skittishness because of all the new people, but now a new worrying thought emerged and Sam’s gut knotted anxiously. What if he was too late? What if the aggressive scent marking had already managed to drive Gabriel away?

 

He knocked gently on the door. “Gabriel?” Nothing. He knocked again. His ears pricked as he heard a subtle rustle from within. Like someone trying to avoid being heard.

 

He took a breath to call again, then stopped. His eyes narrowed. Was that a hint of smoke? But the mark on the door was gone. He leaned closer to the crack of the door and took a deep breath. Bitter aniseed covered his tongue.

 

Sam was _incensed_. He was furious! A full on territorial snarl ripped out of his throat before he could stop it as his anger bloomed on Gabriel’s behalf, his lips curling back over his canines. How dare they! They’d driven Gabriel out, and now they were squatting in his fucking room?! Oh, but they were going to regret it. Whoever they were, they were about to find out that omegas could be just as ferocious as alphas, especially if their pack was threatened. Sam was going to rip the bastard to fucking shreds!

 

He slammed his shoulder against the door. It burst inwards with a crash, leaving him staggering into the room, teeth bared. The smell was abruptly so strong he was sneezing. Smoke blooming into a forest fire, aniseed so strong it was overwhelming, and other, more subtle hints emerging under it. Vanilla and lilies and honeysuckle. And all of it coming from the hunched pair of shoulders sitting on the bed, facing away from him.

 

He paused. The profile was unmistakable. “Gabriel?”

 

Gabriel didn’t even turn. His shoulders were stooped, his head hunched down in what looked like misery, but his voice still held the last belligerent traces of his usual bravado. “Well? Are you gonna come in, or just be creepy in my doorway?”

 

At first, Sam was just confused. His anger swirled, directionless, restless without a target. Where was the mystery alpha? There was only Gabriel in here, but the smell was so strong, so close...

 

Then he put it all together and the anger evaporated entirely.

 

“It’s you!” He blurted out before he thought it through, louder than he meant to. “You’re the alpha!”

 

Gabriel’s shoulders went tight and hard, slowly turned to face him. Sam winced. His expression was a terrible, cracked caricature of his usual uncaring mask. “Hilarious, isn’t it? An archangel, so low on power that I can’t stop myself from presenting. I’m practically Fallen.”

 

He laughed, and the edge of horrified hysteria in it made Sam want to reach out to him, even as the smoke filled the room strong enough to make him recoil. Distress, Sam realised. That’s what the smoke smell was, distress. Not aggression at all. “Gabriel, no, I didn’t mean…”

 

But Gabriel wasn’t stopping. “I told Him when he was making you lot to leave it at two genders, but He was all ‘noooo that’s not interesting enough’! And what a great idea that turned out to be, huh? As if you humans couldn’t find enough half-baked reasons to split yourselves into warring factions. And I have no interest it getting involved in your little inter-designation spats. I wanted nothing to do with this! So why am I getting saddled with it, huh? Why!?” Gabriel was nearly shouting at the ceiling by the end, glaring at it as though giving Chuck a piece of his mind might reverse his graceless state.

 

Sam gaped. His brain was still trying to wrap itself around Gabriel being _alpha_ rather than angelic neutral _._ And not just any alpha. A strong one, a powerful one. _An attractive-smelling one_ , his hindbrain insisted. Sam ignored it. Not the time. “But you’ve been scent marking! All over the bunker! You’ve been marking my stuff! Dean’s too… and Cas’…”

 

Gabriel looked straight-up miserable now, slumping back into despondency. He spoke like the words were being dragged out through his clenched teeth. “Angels make flocks. We _need_ to. Archangels were designed to lead them, to keep the others together, to protect them. It’s our nature. We were meant to solidify heaven, keep it as a cohesive whole. And you saw how well that worked out.” He laughed bitterly. “The protective flocking instinct might not be as strong in the lower ranks, although Cassie seems to have done alright with you two, but for me… I’ve been trying to convince it not to flock but it… it doesn’t seem to be working.”

 

_It_ , like his body and his instincts weren’t a part of him. Like they were something that could be made to just go away. Sam shook his head. He thought about all the times that Gabriel must have tried to make a family; being unable to keep his first flock, the other archangels, from ripping each other apart must have nearly destroyed him. No wonder he hadn’t been able to stay to watch his brothers fight and cast each other down. Then he’d fallen in with Loki and the rest of the pagan gods, trying to build a flock with them out of what must have been desperate loneliness. The inevitable betrayal when that fell apart as well. No wonder Gabriel had wanted to kill Loki and his sons personally. He had tried to defend them all, his new family, from Lucifer, because his instincts had demanded that they were _flock_ and t _o be protected_ , and they had responded by selling him to Asmodeus. It was a wonder there was anything left of Gabriel. Sam couldn’t even imagine his pack doing that to him.

 

“Gabe…” The word came out softer than he meant it to, and Gabriel must have not liked the undertone of pity that Sam hadn’t meant to let slip out because he bristled, arms curling in tighter, fingers cutting white into his biceps as he bared his teeth.

 

“No, I’m fine, see? My instincts don’t control me. I won’t _let_ them control me!” There was a fresh flood of burnt smell.

 

“I know you won’t. I never thought you did. But, Gabe…” Sam measured his words out carefully. “Your grace wants a flock. Your vessel wants a pack. _You_ want a family. Is that really such a bad thing?”

 

“No,” Gabriel muttered, but his hunched shoulders were screaming _YES!_

 

Sam waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t, he sighed in frustration. If Gabriel wasn’t willing to talk it out, maybe a heavier-handed approach was necessary, because they couldn’t keep doing this. Sam couldn’t just sit and let him withdraw himself from what he so obviously desperately wanted. He reached out and dragged Gabriel forwards, tucking his resisting, rigid body close to his own. For once he was glad of his height as he tentatively rubbed his chin over the top of Gabriel’s head, ruffling up his hair until it smelled like him. He could feel the muscles in Gabriel’s back quivering as he tried to keep them tense and resist melting into the embrace.

 

Sam rested a cheek on top of his head. “Maybe I didn’t phrase that quite right. You already have a family, right here, if you want it. And a pack. I don’t know much about flocks, but I’m sure we can learn to be that too, if that’s what you need. By the sounds of it you haven’t had the best luck with… with flockmates. But me, and Dean, and Cas? We might not be the most functional pack ever, but we’ll try. We promise.”

 

“I know you would,” Gabriel admitted grudgingly, his fingers slowly hooking themselves into Sam’s shirt, seemingly against his wishes. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he sighed, the smell of smoke growing even more pungent. “My instincts want me to protect you, but I can’t. I’m not strong enough. I’ve proven that enough times already.”

 

“We don’t just want you around for what you can do for us, Gabe.”

 

But Gabriel just went tense again, bracing his hands against Sam’s chest, trying to push him away. “You died back in the apocalypse world, Sam! You died and I couldn’t do a thing! What kind of alpha am I, if I can’t even protect one human? If I can’t even protect someone who I...” He trailed off, wiping a hand over his stubbled chin and his suspiciously damp eyes. Sam felt his heart thump unevenly in his chest. His arms tensed with the effort of not drawing Gabriel even closer, but Gabriel was still going. “I was always the runt, the smallest one. I was never seen as… as a protector, even if that’s what me grace told me I was. I don’t think they even noticed when I left.”

 

“Well I would,” Sam growled. Gabriel looked up, startled by his vehemence. “Don’t you dare think I wouldn’t miss you if you were gone! And what about Cas? And Jack? Even Dean. And it’s not your fault if us Winchesters have a high mortality rate. Maybe we’d all die a little less often if we stuck together more. We protect each other, and I’m not willing to lose you again. You’re pack!” Gabriel’s eyes were wide, fixed on him like he was worried that Sam wasn’t real and would vanish if he looked away. Sam exhaled, drawing him closer. “Unless you decide you don’t want that. So yeah, if you want to scent-mark everything from here to Lebanon? If that’s what it takes for you to feel like this is home and you belong here? If your instincts tell you to let the world know that we’re your flock and under your protection? Then go wild.”

 

Gabriel sat in conflicted silence for a second. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

 

Sam knew why he was asking. Marking places was seen as just about acceptable, marking other people who weren’t your mates was seen as overkill. He chuckled. “You might have noticed none of us are particularly traditional. Dean nests more than I do. He definitely doesn’t run the pack like Dad used to. And me, well,” Sam gestured ruefully at the long, muscular length of his body. “I’m about as far from the omega stereotypes as you can get. So go on. I know you want to.”

 

Gabriel was still for half a second more, and then he was moving, wriggling, desperately trying to get as close to Sam as physically possible, clinging to his chest like an overgrown koala. Then Gabriel decided to change tack. There was a flurry of movement and he drew away, and for half a second Sam was concerned, but then he laughed as Gabriel almost launched himself off the bed so that he could get the height to reciprocate what Sam had done earlier, rubbing a cheek over the top of Sam’s head with a rasp of stubble catching against his hair. The smell of lilies bloomed out from the contact, overpowering the smell of smoke. Gabriel’s wrists rubbed down his shoulders, over his back as he slowly sank back to kneeling on the bed, almost in Sam’s lap. He clutched at him, bunches of flannel in his fists, burying his face in his chest. Sam felt him take a deep breath, and he knew without a doubt that he was smelling what Sam could smell- both of their scents twined together. Pack.

 

Gabriel went utterly boneless, and Sam chuckled, gathering him against him and sliding them onto the bed so they were lying down. He felt fondness blooming warm inside his chest. They ended up with Gabriel was draped half over him, and Sam’s arms wrapped around him, tracing patterns on his back. Gabriel had to be tired, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping, and he needed to now that he was nearly human. Sam rubbed absently up and down. He had almost been expecting some sort of backlash from his own instincts against the vigrous scent marking, but for some reason there was nothing- it just felt _right_. He knew that his own scent was growing, his happiness filling the room.

 

And then came the sound Sam had never thought he’d ever hear from Gabriel, a rumbling purr slowly starting to build in his chest. Sam’s eyes shot open, surprised. It built, growing until Sam could feel Gabriel’s back vibrating under his hands. Hesitantly, Sam reached up, rubbing just under his shoulders. The purr choked off for half a second, then increased in volume. Sam grinned against his shoulder.

 

“S-shut up,” Gabriel muttered, the purr stuttering his speech.

 

Sam smiled and closed his eyes.

 

...

 

The bunker didn’t smell like smoke any more.

 

Sam took a deep breath, and smiled when all that reached his nose was aniseed and lilies. There was none of the distress that had been setting everyone visibly on edge for weeks, and it was honestly a relief.

 

He had sat Dean and Cas down and explained what had gone on, and just as he’d expected, they had both accepted the new arrangements with minimal grumbling, especially after he had accounted exactly where the new scent was coming from. Dean had complained a little that he could barely smell Sam any more under all the ‘flowers and crap”, but Cas had just swatted him on the arm and congratulated Sam on his new relationship, which had made his ears blush scarlet.

 

And best of all, Gabriel was finally emerging from his room. He peeked out when Sam knocked on his door.

 

“We’re having a movie night. Turns out Jack hasn’t watched Star Wars before, if you want to join?” Gabriel looked torn. Sam grinned, knowing something that might help him decide. “Dean made toffee popcorn.”

 

Gabriel was out of the door faster than Sam had ever seen him move, striding off down the corridor towards the rich smell so quickly that even Sam, with his long legs, had to trot a few paces to catch up. He was chuckling as he reached the door to the den, slipping inside.

 

Dean, Cas and Jack were already there, lounging on the enormous battered sofa, Dean defending his bowl of popcorn with playful growls. Gabriel hesitated for a second when Cas sniffed and turned towards him, but Sam gave him a gentle shove between his shoulder blades and he staggered in, trying to make it look natural by plopping down on the sofa next to Jack. “Budge up, kid, make way for your elders.” But his confident words couldn’t quite hide the way his eyes darted to Dean, like he might try and chase him out of the bunker if he set a foot wrong.

 

Dean glanced over at him, snorted, then yelped as Cas took his distraction as an opportunity to steal his popcorn. Sam ignored the bickering, slotting in the DVD and then coming back to sit on the sofa, making sure to put his arm around Gabe. Slowly, Gabriel relaxed against him.

 

The first half of the film passed without much happening. They were all slumped together, leaning towards each other subconsciously, tangling their bodies and scents up in each other as packs tended to do when they were all cosy and warm and safe, even packs made of paranoid hunters and renegade angels. Gabriel was still trying to be subtle, letting his hands trail across Cas’ shoulders like he still wasn’t sure he was allowed, even if they’d discussed this. Until Cas turned his head and rubbed his scent right onto Gabriel’s shoulder in a brazen pack-claim. Gabriel got a lot less shy about it after that, despite Cas’ smug smile as he fixed his eyes on the screen.

 

By the time Luke was rescuing Leia from the death star, Gabriel had finished up marking Jack, and was looking cautiously at Dean, like he was trying to calculate what he could get away with.

 

“Do it.” Cas commanded bluntly over the buzz of lightsaber battles. All of them turned to look at him. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, like he was surprised at being ordered around by his little brother. “The sooner you do it, the sooner Dean can accept you into the pack and stop rubbing his wrists over everything within a two mile radius.” Dean flushed an embarrassed red but didn’t deny it. “Isn’t that right, Dean?”

 

“Fine,” Dean grumbled. He sat still as Gabriel came forwards, and Sam had to repress his laughter at the expression of grumpy tolerance on his brother’s face as Gabriel merrily scrubbed his hands through his hair. It was worth it, though, when Gabriel came back to him and lay down, plopping his head into his lap, radiating contentment.

 

Sam took a deep breath, closing his eyes, winding one hand into Gabriel’s hair. Lilies rose around them, wrapping around all of their scents.

 

It smelled like home; it smelled like family.

 


End file.
